For each forward step that I took, I was pushed five steps back. The only safe thing to do was to scream…

Indeed, it was the Highest Point.

And so we stopped the car to take a vantage view. 

There was a pretty Filipina with a Caucasian man, apparently on a road trip just like Lee and me. The Flipina was screaming and laughing at the same time.  At first I thought she was just pabebe, a Filipino term for a woman who acts childishly in order to get some attention and loving gestures from a man. Boy, when I stepped out of the car to get a panoramic view from the shed overlooking the mountain peaks below, I understood why she was screaming. Like a crazy shapeless monster, the bitterly cold winds were lashing, beating, flogging, pushing my every being. And, it was drizzling.  Each drop of drizzle that hit me was like a minute needle, forcefully making its way to my spine and bone marrows, making each step toward the shed an ordeal. For each forward step that I took, I would be pushed 5 steps back. Screaming was an instinct. It was the only safe, natural thing to do.

Even Lee, a sturdy ex-military Korean guy who is used to having cold weather in his country, could not endure it. He said it’s a different kind of cold—it’s not the soft, smooth, relaxing cold winter feeling. He said it’s harsh, angry, attacking, piercing, ravaging kind of cold. Many times, we ran back to the car. But, we knew that we were standing on special grounds and we wanted to take pictures.  We were on the highest point of Haselma Highway, the highest altitude highway in the Philippines. We did not want to get defeated by the winds.

As the wind continuously battered us, we made our steps firmer, screaming while walking.  It was literally difficult to hold my ground. After the fifth try, I mustered up enough courage to stand up and have my picture taken. Lee had to rub his palms together to generate heat and sensation so that he could hold his phone and aim its camera at me. After that, he wanted to have his picture taken as well. I rubbed my palms together and jumped and danced and screamed to make my body feel sensations. I was getting numb all over and I could not control my shivering. After five tries, I could finally take a decent picture of my buddy.

RESPONDING TO THE CALL OF NATURE WHILE WE WERE UP THERE

After that, Lee and I wanted to use the comfort room. Because we were in a remote place, up there among the clouds, I imagined that the comfort room would not give me comfort at all; I imagined a makeshift comfort room in which one would squat.  I decided to hold my pee until we reached our destination, but my buddy was already asking one old lady where the comfort room was. I was left there standing and after a while, he came back and told me, “It’s your turn, I’ll wait for you in the car.”

It was a struggle to walk from our car to the shed, so  imagine how much of a struggle then to step down, about 15 steps below the shed I was standing previously on, in order to pee.  As I was making my way down to the comfort room, I had to hold on to anything to keep my balance. At 157 centimeters weighing 43 kilograms, I reckoned that I could easily be blown away by the harsh winds.

The comfort room was much, much better than I expected. The walls and floor were tiled. There was a big, big drum filled with water. There was a bar of soap for washing the hands with.

The wind was still of course bitter and cold; it was even a struggle to unzip my jeans. Imagine my discomfort when the wind also battered my exposed behind; the wind went through the cracks on the walls of the comfort room. The comfort room had tiled floors and walls but the shutter of the door had no lock; I simply had to hook a piece of wire attached to the shutter to a nail in the interior wall of the tiny room. Because of the that, the room was ajar.

Lee and I shivered in the wind and even our jaws quivered. We could not talk properly. When we were back in the car, Lee put his hands inside his pockets and rubbed them again afterwards so that he would feel some sensation and drive again. We continued driving amid the beautiful surroundings.

At one point, amid the clouds, we saw a car used for delivering vegetables. The industrious farmers looked like ants–properly lined up, each doing his assigned task. Some were carrying the vegetables in big baskets on their back while going down from the mountain. Some were loading the big baskets of vegetables onto the truck. Lee stopped the car and told me to buy some napa cabbage.

The two heads of napa cabbage were the biggest and freshest I’ve seen in my whole life. They were so fresh; I could smell the sweet smell of the soil on their roots. One head cost 20 pesos. Lee could not believe his eyes nor could he believe his ears when I told him the price.

For the next three hours we  had to drive through the clouds. We could see only as far as 15 feet, we were literally among the clouds. We could see our way because of our own car light and sometimes, we would meet some riders on the road, and the motorists’ lights would help light our way.

The long drive among the clouds continued and Lee was getting weary. I talked to him about the nice things that we would do in Sagada. He had been to Sagada with a male friend in December 2014, but they took the a bus. When I met him in April 2015, he promised to take me to Sagada someday, and that someday was today. He told me about the mountains, the caves, and the waterfalls. I was not really interested in what he was saying. I would see them soon anyway. I just wanted him to talk and stay awake. We were up high, among the clouds and the the terrain was unfamiliar. I did not even know anymore which of the four cardinal directions we were facing—-no sun, all clouds, all mountain walls around us. And then, Lee made another turn. Whoah, it was SUDDENLY bright, sunny and warm! We were both happy to see sunshine again.

“Beth, if you see a restaurant, please tell me. We will have lunch.”

That’s what I had been dying to tell him but I did not want him to lose focus on the cloudy road.

THE RESTAURANT

The restaurant was small but cozy. The furniture was modern in contrast to its countryside surroundings. The windows were made of glass so I could see the outside view. I could see the top of the pine trees.

It’s a shame that I did not have the sense to jot down the name of the restaurant. All I can remember now is a landmark; there was a vulcanizing shop across from it.

After the lunch, we started driving again—now cold and foggy, now bright and sunny, depending on our altitude and the angle we were at against the sun.